Humpty's bones

Fast!

‘It’s found us!’

We ran like crazy. By tanks, vans, troop carriers, all covered with sheets of plastic. They formed sinister mounds. They hinted at deathly things.

In the gloom, the confusion, the speed at which everything happened, it was inevitable. I turned off into another tunnel. A minute later I stopped to get my breath back. Then I saw the others weren’t with me.

‘Pitt, Jenny, Adam. Where are you?’There was no reply. A deadly silence filled the tunnel. My friends? No sign. Only the unnerving shapes of vehicles under grey shrouds. At any second that demon-thing might prowl round the corner. Here I was, alone.

All alone.

Eight

Listen. When you’re alone, your head fills with thoughts, doesn’t it? If you’re walking by yourself through a forest you start to imagine you’re being followed. If you’re alone at night, then open the blind to look out, you’re convinced a stranger’s face will look back at you through the glass. Being alone can make your imagination turn bad.

There in the tunnel, deep underground, I waited. I could hear my own breathing. I saw warnings: CAUTION. HAZARD ZONE. At any moment I expected that monstrous thing to come roaring at me. But what was it? There was a sense of menace and strength about it, but I’d not seen it clearly. It had only been a speck at the far end of the tunnel. Just what could live down here that could break out through a thick bunker door?

Shivering, I continued walking in the hope I’d find another exit to the surface. Then a sight met my eyes that didn’t give me any hope. One of the plastic sheets had been ripped to pieces. Shreds of grey covered the floor. A container on a truck had been broken open. Soldiers’ helmets had tumbled out. I picked one up. There were four holes in it, big enough to wiggle my fingers through. Bite holes.

‘They sure have big mice round here.’ I tried to laugh at my own joke but the echo made me flinch. ‘Time to get out of here, Naz,’ I told myself. ‘Otherwise you’re going to end up as dinner.’

Nine

I went through the tunnel. Silence oppressed me. That quietness felt like a towel pressed over my face. At times, that alone, seemed as if it would stop me breathing. When I paused to catch my breath the silence got even worse. All I could hear was the scratchy rasp… rasp as I breathed in and out. The air from my lungs blew in white blasts in the harsh light. Got to find the others, I told myself. Then gotta get out. Get away from here.

Because I knew the truth — down here we were not alone. Some thing hunted us. As I rested for a moment I looked back the way I’d come. I stared until my eyes watered. All those vehicles covered in grey plastic sheeting. They waited for war. Above me, on the tunnel roof, clung a big black object with spider legs. My eyes locked onto it. A gurgle sounded in my throat as my heart raced — bang, bang, bang. Then I took a deep breath. The spider object was some kind of mechanical hoist bolted to the ceiling. That’s all. The black legs were a steel grab. Probably the soldiers used it to load equipment onto these trucks that lined the tunnel like slumbering beasts.

I rubbed my eyes then checked the tunnel again. Nothing there… yet. I continued walking. My footsteps echoed from the walls.

‘Pitt, Jenny, Adam.’ The call came as a whisper rather than a shout. A sense of danger filled me. I didn’t dare shout the names of my friends, just in case it heard. I shuddered. Were they still safe? Or had they been caught? Dread oozed inside of me. What if I never saw the three again? What would I say to their parents? If the worst happened, who would tell the police? Imagine having to identify the bodies? I pictured figures lying under sheets on the ground. There’d be police dressed in those white forensic suits with the tight little hoods. One would start to pull back the sheet. ‘Okay, son. This isn’t going to be nice. Brace yourself for a shock. But take a good long look at what’s left of the face… and tell me the name of the person you see lying there.’

Suddenly, a whispering startled me. I’d been so preoccupied with imagining the gruesome scene with the police that I nearly leapt out of my skin. A grey shape began to swell outwards across the tunnel. I couldn’t run back because I might bump into whatever followed me. Now I couldn’t go forward because a grey, lumpy mass blocked my way.

‘Idiot,’ I panted. ‘It’s only the plastic sheeting.’ I took a closer look. The relief! I even tingled with embarrassment when I realised what had happened. A ventilation duct at the other side of the truck blew air under the wheels, causing the plastic sheet that covered the vehicle to inflate in the draught.

I pushed on. With luck I’d find my friends soon.

But life isn’t always so kind. A moment later I found scratch marks on a wall. On the floor were the remains of a poster. From what I could make out it had been a picture of a man and a women with children. Their faces had been clawed away as if some creature hated the sight of humans.

A huge shiver crawled up my spine. So: whatever lurked down here didn’t like people. That’s a fact. What’s more, its claws were so powerful they’d etched deep lines in the concrete wall when it destroyed the poster. I found myself touching my face. What would those claws feel like when they hooked into your skin?

‘Keep moving,’ I murmured, ‘whatever happens, just keep moving. You don’t want to be standing here when it comes round that corner.’

Ten

Leading off from this section of tunnel were rooms. Although deep underground they were dry. They didn’t smell bad. Objects lay on tables beneath more plastic covers. Those stretched out forms made me uneasy. Bodies under sheets? Well, that’s what they looked like. I made myself check them, otherwise my imagination would riot. I’d find myself picturing zombies rising from their tables of death. When I poked back the covers with a mop I found in a corner I saw that the ‘zombie’ shapes were only blankets packed in cellophane.

In every room hunched objects in the shadows suggested demon shapes. Elsewhere, were skeletons of mechanical equipment. Computer screens stared — all blank and hollow. Pipes gurgled softly, mocking me. Lights flickered. They seemed to be enjoying the fact I was scared. When they dimmed they seemed to be saying, Hey, Naz. At any moment we can switch ourselves off. How are you going to get out of here in the dark, Naz? Where will you go? When it’s all black and you’re scrambling to get out, and your hands touch a face covered in bristly hair, what you gonna do, then?

I was edgy. Sweat made my back sticky. Nerves filled my stomach with butterflies. When I came across a door bearing the words: Gun Store I was ready to steal a rifle to protect myself. I groaned in disappointment: the gun room was padlocked shut.

With the silence weighing heavy, I rejoined the tunnel. Echoing footsteps — my own. Where were my friends? Were they okay? I passed ten trucks parked nose to tail. Plastic sheets rustled. It was the air-conditioning units that caused the draughts. They made a sinister whispering. The air blew into my back. Those electric fans